• In the midst of battle,
    I stand with both hands open
    In my right hand is a pure white feather,
    In my left, a pure black feather
    The wind picks up,
    blowing only one feather away
    The black feather has diappeared
    I hold the white feather to my chest,
    I now know who will not leave me
    I feel a blade pressed against my back,
    I know who it is
    This person whispers one final thing,
    before shoving the sword through my heart
    As I fall, I hold the feather close
    A warm light envelopes me
    I can feel another person holding me close,
    whispering wonderful things
    One white feather
    One black feather
    Only one path is right for me